


Seize the Day

by DestinyIslandWanderer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Flirting, Gladio Week: “Day Off”, Humor, M/M, Making Out, Pre-Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyIslandWanderer/pseuds/DestinyIslandWanderer
Summary: “I’ve always thought you were a little too uptight for your own good,” Gladio says.“Is that right?” Ignis rolls his eyes.“Don’t you ever just wanna like...get drunk and make out with someone?”It really is a pity that of all the eligible men in Insomnia, Ignis has to be attracted to his closest co-worker and the world’s most insufferable flirt.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, background promptis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65
Collections: Gladio Week





	Seize the Day

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for the prompt “Day Off” for Gladio week, because, while Gladio is my favorite chocobro, I just love it when Ignis hates him (but secretly loves him - you know how it is).

Noctis and Prompto have been insisting for months that Ignis should take a day off and spend a night out with them, but Ignis has continually insisted (correctly) that he simply doesn’t have the time.

Ignis observes his surroundings and tries for the hundredth time not to think about the stack of paperwork sitting in his office, not to mention all the preparation Noctis _hasn’t_ done for the summit meeting happening next weekend. Ignis is always told he doesn’t relax enough, most notably by King Regis himself. 

The king’s insistence, and the constant begging of Noctis and Prompto, is what’s gotten Ignis sitting on a barstool in Downtown Insomnia. Of course, the second they arrived, Noctis and Prompto escaped to the dance floor. They’re probably making out already, dancing in a manner so lewd and egregious it will warrant a stern lecture tomorrow (especially if they end up in the tabloids, gods forbid), but Ignis isn’t supposed to be worrying about all that. His other shortcoming, or so he’s told, is that he doesn’t know how to live in the moment.

Gladiolus Amicitia doesn’t have that problem. He’s chatting up some gorgeous blond at the bar a few feet away, and Ignis wishes so badly it didn’t bother him, the way Gladio is leaning in and flashing his gorgeous smile. It really is a pity that of all the eligible men in Insomnia, Ignis has to be attracted to his closest co-worker and the world’s most insufferable flirt.

He wonders if that’s why he’s always been so fascinated by Gladio, because of every reason Ignis can’t or shouldn’t want him. Perhaps if he were less tall or rugged or wore a shirt more often...

He’s wearing one now, but it’s open, revealing the most tantalizing view of all his muscles. The blond man likes that. He’s shamelessly touching Gladio’s pecs and _giggling._ Good gracious. Gladio should be embarrassed by his own taste in men, but of course he’s not. Gladio’s probably never been ashamed a day in his life.

Ignis reminds himself that it’s really not his business who Gladio flirts with and attempts to enjoy his surroundings. A posh bar with black walls and neon lighting everywhere, little signs with cliche sayings, like “seize the day” and “good vibes only.” He shakes his head in disappointment when he sees Noctis and Prompto taking a selfie in front of the latter one, Noctis kissing Prompto’s cheek.

“Hey Iggy. You’re lookin’ pretty good tonight.”

That’s the other problem. Gladio’s _always_ flirting with him. Or trying to. Ignis always shuts him down before he can get any (correct) ideas, because anything between them would be wholly inappropriate and surely end in disaster for their respective careers.

To that end, Ignis reminds himself that Gladio flirts with anyone and everyone, and it’s really nothing special, even as he sometimes secretly wishes Gladio’s attentions meant more than they do.

“Hi Gladio,” he sighs.

“What?” Gladio asks, exasperated with him already. “Don’t tell me I’ve already managed to piss you off. This is a _bar,_ Ignis. You’re _supposed_ to be getting drunk and having fun. Maybe flirt a little,” he smirks. 

It’s unfortunate that his smile is so enticing, as if he needed that on top of everything else—his incredible physique, his charming personality, the intoxicating color of his eyes.

“I will not be flirting tonight,” Ignis insists, trying to get Gladio away from him by any means necessary. His presence is positively dangerous. Ignis can already feel himself being drawn in. The glass of wine he’s been nursing doesn’t help the situation either. 

“Suit yourself,” Gladio says. “But I’ve always thought you were a little too uptight for your own good.”

“Is that right?” Ignis rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you ever just wanna like...get drunk and make out with someone?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda fun…”

“Gladio,” he warns.

“Have it your way, Specs. I’m just sayin...You got all dressed up tonight, you look hot as fuck, and now you’re just sitting at the bar looking sad. As your friend, it’s my responsibility to push you.”

“And now you’re treating me like Noctis at a training session.”

Gladio’s eye contact doesn’t flinch. “Sometimes I think you could use someone to pin you down and tell you what to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ignis asks to disguise the way those words are making his pants feel tight.

“It means that you’re stubborn as hell, and maybe you should listen to someone else for a change.”

“And you think you’re the one I should listen to?”

Gladio shrugs, his expression playful, before flagging down the bartender, asking for a Tequila Sunrise. Gladio’s drink preferences, much like his appetite for romance novels, has never ceased to amuse Ignis. He’d expect Gladio, self-proclaimed alpha male, to drink something like an Old Fashioned, but Gladio unabashedly orders the sweetest drinks on the menu. Ignis supposes when you look that good, it really doesn’t matter what you drink.

Gladio takes his first sip and turns his attention back to Ignis. “I’m not saying anything, Iggy. Just that maybe if you loosened up, you would be surprised how much fun you’d have.”

He’s gone after one last goading look. Ignis downs his wine and asks for a vodka shot.

Ignis can be fun when he wants to, and Gladio does not have the monopoly on getting drunk and flirting with attractive men. 

With a little liquid courage in his system, Ignis spots Gladio’s blond across the way. He appears to be saying goodbye to his companion, and that gives Ignis an opening.

He takes the seat next to the man and realizes he doesn’t actually know how to hit on someone. Thankfully, the man speaks first.

“Did you come all this way to see me?” he grins.

“All the way?” Ignis asks, confused.

“From the other side of the bar. I’m teasing you,” he smiles. “You’re sexy. I’m glad you came over.”

He has to admit Gladio has good taste. The man is very handsome. Sandy blonde hair and black-framed glasses. He looks smart and _cool_ and much more trendy than Ignis will ever be.

The man places his hand on Ignis’s bare forearm and rubs his thumb over the skin. It’s unfairly seductive, and Ignis feels grateful he rolled up his sleeves earlier in order to fully enjoy the sensation. Even so, he shouldn’t be _this_ aroused by such a simple touch. Maybe it’s been too long.

“You wanna dance?” the man asks.

“Sure,” Ignis agrees, not even aware of what dancing means at a club like this, but having a small idea from the monstrosity that is Noctis and Prompto shamelessly grinding into one another. For his part, Ignis is trained in all manner of dances from ballroom to swing, but somehow he doesn’t think he’ll be using his skills tonight.

The man takes Ignis’s hand and guides him to the middle of the floor where they’re out of sight from the surrounding patrons. The man’s mouth is on Ignis’s in seconds, before Ignis can even make a comment about the dance styles he knows, and he’s a surprisingly good kisser. His lips are insistent and taste vaguely sweet. When Ignis feels bold enough to use his tongue, the man pushes himself closer, his erection rubbing against Ignis’s most indecently, and yet Ignis can’t seem to regret it or even want it to stop. Ignis wouldn’t normally be caught dead doing something like this, but with the anonymity provided by the dance floor and his pleasantly altered consciousness, it feels surprisingly _okay._ Perhaps this is what everyone’s always been talking about when they tell him to _relax._

That is, until he feels a strong hand on his shoulder, pulling Ignis away from his admirer. 

It’s Gladio standing in front of him.

“Is it true you have a thing for me?” Gladio asks.

“Who on Eos—“ Ignis begins to exclaim, but Gladio immediately interrupts.

“Noct told me. He said you told him at Prompto’s birthday party that you have a thing for me.”

Ignis vaguely remembers that, another night where he’d had too much to drink. He’d sworn Noctis to secrecy, and as soon as he found that traitor prince, he was going to—

“So is it true or not?”

Ignis knows Gladio will push the issue indefinitely, so he tries to give a safe answer.

“I find you _attractive,_ but I hardly think that makes me different than any other resident of Insomnia.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” he smirks. “But I’d argue it’s a little different considering you don’t seem to find many men attractive.”

“I do too!” Ignis protests, though he will take that list of men to his grave.

“Okay, whatever. So you like me?”

Ignis would like to argue, but he doesn’t think Gladio will drop the subject, and, with the way Gladio’s looking at him, he’s starting to think he doesn’t want him to.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Then why are you always giving me such a hard time?”

“I can’t help it. You’re—you _know_ how you are!”

“How’s that?” 

“Constantly flirting with _everyone,_ and—“

“So you don’t like how slutty I am? That’s what it is?”

“I don’t know,” Ignis huffs.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t sleep around so much if I had someone who could pin me down and put me in my place.”

“I thought you said that’s what _I_ needed?”

“I’m not picky about who pins who,” he grins. “Besides, it was kinda hot pushing that guy off of you.” 

Okay, it was, but Ignis isn’t going to admit it.

“If you wanna argue about who’s more slutty, I think it’s you,” Gladio goads him.

“I am not!”

“You just made out with some random guy.”

“A guy you were already flirting with!”

“But I didn’t practically fuck him on the dance floor.”

“We were just—“

“Whatever,” Gladio playfully rolls his eyes. “Wanna make out with me now?”

“Fine!”

“Just fine?” Gladio teases.

Ignis has half a mind to slap his gorgeous face, but he wants him too much.

“ _Yes, I’d like to make out with you._ Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“See. Told you you’re a slut.”

Ignis obeys his instinct to push Gladio away, but Gladio takes him by surprise, pulling him in instead, aggressively claiming his lips. Gladio is sensational with his mouth, and truly his entire body, his arms squeezing around Ignis’s waist, forcing their bodies as close as they can get. He’s a veritable wall of muscle, and Ignis feels like he’s lost every brain cell, his only thoughts are physical, and they all revolve around the man holding Ignis in his arms.

“Come home with me,” Gladio says in his ear.

It takes Ignis, still dazed from the shock of what’s just happened, to come up with any response at all, let alone a clever one.

“You really think that’s a good idea?”

“Fine, maybe I _am_ the slutty one,” Gladio says, placing an open-mouthed kiss on Ignis’s neck. “But I really don’t mind being your sloppy seconds.”

Ignis feels like he could succumb from just that, but he uses his last bit of willpower to add, “I also hate giving you the satisfaction of adding me to your list of one-night stands.”

“Iggy…” Gladio observes him curiously, almost earnestly. “You _know_ you’re more than a one-night stand to me, right?”

What he’s implying makes Ignis nervous, because sleeping with Gladio is one thing, but being in a relationship with him is another, and Ignis hasn’t even considered the latter. His fantasies always stop at Gladio with his clothes off, and for good reason. A relationship would have too many implications for their jobs and Noctis.

“Iggy! Get out of your head,” Gladio urges, his usual, playful demeanor returning. “I don’t care what you call it. Just come home with me.”

Ignis stares at Gladio for a moment too long. He’s handsome and every bit as dangerous as Ignis has always believed him to be.

“Okay,” he agrees without thinking.

“Okay,” Gladio grins, taking him by the hand and guiding him towards the exit. They pass Noctis and Prompto making out against a wall, and Gladio inserts an arm between them, effortlessly pushing them away from each other. “We’re going home,” he announces.

“But it’s only 9—“ Noctis begins to protest, and then he notices Gladio holding Ignis’s hand and looks like his brain is about to short-circuit. Prompto realizes it a second later, and his eyes go wide, staring between the two of them.

“Shut up,” Gladio groans, even though they haven’t said anything. Noctis and Prompto follow them to the taxi, blissfully silent, their shock solely expressed by the looks and nudges they keep giving each other.

Gladio opens the door for Ignis to sit up front, as he usually does in the rare cases he isn’t driving. Everyone knows Ignis likes to politely micromanage the driver (all in the name of the prince’s safety, of course).

He observes Gladio in the rear-view mirror the entire drive, a little shamelessly if he’s being honest, and when Gladio realizes it, his grin is sweet and tender, not at all like the pain-in-the-ass insufferable flirt Ignis knows. 

Ignis is in so much trouble. He knows it when, after the driver drops off Noctis and Prompto, Ignis unconsciously slips into the back seat just to be closer to Gladio, and he doesn’t protest when Gladio reaches across the middle seat to place a hand on his thigh. 

* * *

“I heard you finally took a day off,” Regis remarks the following night at dinner. “I’m pleased to hear it. How was it?”

Ignis feels his face flush, a series of erotic memories of Gladio flitting through his head, the same ones he’s unfortunately not been able to rid himself of all day. His eyes dart to Gladio who’s standing guard by the door, having the audacity to _smirk_ at Ignis while he’s experiencing one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

“It was very memorable,” Ignis comments. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

“Maybe you should take ‘days off’ more often,” Noctis says, and his sly expression suggests that Noctis knows much more than he should about the events of the previous evening.

Ignis doesn’t respond, just takes another sip of his wine. His eyes, of their own accord, return to Gladio again, and the man has the gall to _wink_ at him. 

Gladio may be the death of him, but, astrals help him, it takes all Ignis’s self-restraint not to wink back.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
